


Lie To Me

by Avery_Fontaine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar lives, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar won, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Sibling Incest, Smut, Underage Sex, War, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Fontaine/pseuds/Avery_Fontaine
Summary: King Rhaegar rules the Seven Kingdoms. Believing his children the three heads of the dragon, he tries to control their fates, despite their own dreams and desires. Prince Jon Targaryen and his sister Rhaenys hide their passion from the world, away from their father's eyes. They have kept their love a secret for years, knowing they'd be separated if they were found out. But they are dragons, and dragons take what they want.





	1. Night Whispers

**Rhaenys**

He came to my room during a storm. The City Watch was too busy keeping the city from flooding to notice him. 

I was in my bed looking out to the moon, enjoying the sound of rain patting on the roof. He came into my room quietly, but I knew he entered. 

I knew the sound of his footsteps well. He always found time to sneak in when everyone was distracted.

"Rhaenys," he said.

I sat up from my bed to see him there, dressed in black. It was his typical wear. Always the Black Dragon, though some still called him the Black Bastard. The date of father's marriage to Queen Lyanna was still questioned.

"Jon, come to me. I want to see you in the moonlight," I told him.

He walked up to me slowly until I saw his face in the dark blue light; he might have looked menacing in the dark, were it not for the sad expression on his face. 

He wasn't as cheerful as Aegon, though not as solemn as Lyra. But I knew that now he had the same expression as I. We were always afraid of being found out.

I stood up and kissed him. He held me in his strong arms, making me feel safe and protected. He had his hands in my hair when we ended our kiss, and he looked at me with so much love.

He was a handsome man, he should have known. Tall, a Northman's face with his manly beard. He was far more rugged than Aegon, and a skilled swordsman. There was a reason the Mormonts gave him Longclaw after his battle at the Wall. I knew that women had been vying for him since he was a babe, and many now saw the chivalrous prince that he was. 

But he was mine. No one would take him from me.

I put his hands on my hips.

"Take me, Jon," I said, "It's been too long since we've been together."

He did as I ask and pulled off my gown, and pushed me onto the bed. I pushed down his trousers with my feet.

He kissed my breasts and kissed down my stomach. He was far more confident since the day he took my maidenhead, but just as wary of my body. He was always so delicate with me, always trying to touch me how I liked.

He kissed down me until he reached my cunt and he started to lick me. I grabbed his hair and moan quietly, trying to remain quiet, even as the storm muffled our voices. He was so skilled with his tongue. He always wanted the chance to practice.

I felt him stop and he looked up at me. He kissed me deeply, and I tasted myself on his tongue. If we were wanton for our acts, why not be as salacious as we wanted?

He looked into my eyes and entered me, his large cock penetrating into my core. His dark eyes looked into my own. We were Targaryens by blood, yet neither of us had the look. They have said we were not true Targaryens. That our blood was too muddled. We are so alike.

I was moaning into his ear when I felt him quicken his thrusts. I knew he was close. He began fucking me harder, trying to bring me to my peak first. He was always my chivalrous prince. 

I suddenly lost myself and felt my folds grip his cock. I screamed a silent scream into his ear, and he released his seed into my cunt.

I had to drink moontea in private so I would not raise suspicion. I knew I would have to drink some in the morrow, yet I couldn't help but my feel regret at the thought. 

His children should be mine, I should be his wife and him my husband. This was the way of Targaryens. We often told eachother such when we first began sneaking into eachother's beds. I was so young then, and Jon, too young. Yet I fell in love with him all the same.

He finished in me and laid on my side. I curled up into his arms. It felt so natural. It was how it should have been with us openly.

"I love you," I said.

"And I, you," Jon said, but there was more beyond his words. There was a tone of futility in his speech, as if we loved eachother in futility.

But we will be together. Father may have defeated grandfather but we are the blood of the Rhoynar and the First Men. He cannot stop us. His marriage pacts will be nullified and he will have to accept that.

Jon left my bed soon after. It was a typical for us. Our times together were always brief and hidden. Everything was behind closed doors. Father couldn't have known this would happen, having been raised alone. But Jon and I know all too well what can happen when boys and girls live so close together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this work, Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark are still alive, sister wives to King Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar took the throne from his father Aerys II (whose reign ended with Jaime Lannister's sword through his back).  
> Robert Barantheon was defeated at the Trident by Rhaegar, who fought even harder after learning of Lyanna's pregnancy. Stannis Baratheon took his place as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.  
> Soon after Lyanna married Rhaegar and gave to birth Prince Jon. Lyanna and Elia lived as friends and sister-wives to Rhaegar, the first King since Maegor the Cruel to take multiple wives.  
> Obsessed with ensuring his children become the three heads of the dragon, he has become a strict father, preventing his children from living outside his visions for them, which include marriages to other houses.  
> Jon and Rhaenys have had a relationship since childhood, as Aegon learned to become king.  
> Lyanna Stark birthed a daughter, Princess Lyra, a silver-haired girl with purple eyes. She is one-and-ten, and a sad girl who rarely takes time away from her books. She is in love with Jon, but she is clever enough to know he only has eyes for Rhaenys.  
> Jaime Lannister remains on the Kingsguard, having been pardoned by Rhaegar.  
> Rhaegar's sister Daenerys and brother Viserys spent time in Essos, but Viserys died in a Dothraki attack. Daenerys escaped with the help of Ser Jorah Mormont, and escaped with three dragon eggs.  
> Daenerys returns to Dragonstone to see her mother, Dowager Queen Rhaella, with dragon eggs Rhaegar wants to see.  
> Eddard Stark lives in Winterfell with his wife; while tensions remain since Eddard raised his banners in rebellion, heads have cooled since Rhaegar overthrew his father and married Lyanna. Rhaegar and Eddard do not like eachother.  
> Lyanna dotes on her daughters, considering Rhaenys her own and always trying to cheer up Lyra. She is proud of the man her son has become.  
> Elia is protective of Aegon and Rhaenys, often preventing them from engaging in risks. Oberyn Martell often visits the keep to see his sister and her children.  
> Jon is seven-and-ten and Rhaenys is nearly twenty.


	2. Comparisons

 

**Lyra**

The world around me became quiet when I looked into the mirror. The chatter of the city below and the talk of the guards outside my room became soundless to me.

Looking into the mirror, I could not help but think about what I would change. I touched my short silver-colored hair and imagined it long and dark. I saw my light violet eyes and wondered if they could look beautiful if they were more brown, or black. Mayhaps he could love me then... if I looked more like her.

They say I will be beautiful, like a true Valyrian. But I only want to be beautiful to Jon. I casted my eyes down, still twirling my hair in my fingers.

I walked to my bed in which laid Ghost, our pet direwolf. He is a loyal companion. One of the few I truly know that loves me. I hold him close during the nights and Jon and I like to play with him in the kingswood. 

I remembered when Jon brought him back to Winterfell after our stay with our cousins and uncle. They found enough pups for all of the Stark children, but only one for Jon and I. Mayhaps they thought it appropriate to give us the albino. The half-wolf to the half-Starks. But Ghost is a wolf through and through, only with odd eyes and white hair. He and I share that in common.

I sat on the bed and Ghost crawled onto my lap. He is getting so big. 

"Here, boy," I told him, putting out my hand for him to lick.

He licked my hand and settled into my lap. I laid my head against his fur and felt his warmth. He was always a good pillow. 

It is such a pleasant thing to be comforted by wolf. Ghost taught me that they could be vicious but also nurturing, loving. Dragons were always angry and spiky, if the stories could be believed. 

I remember when Jon got me _The Testament of Mushroom_ for my name-day. It was an exciting tale yet all the dragons in it seemed to be tools for war and war alone. They were beasts bred in fire and served only the cruel. Still, with all its grandiosity, the book was the perfect gift. I still treasure it.

I heard a knock on the door and expected my handmaiden, Talla Tarly, to enter. I still had on my white-grey nightgown and needed to be fitted into my dress.

"Come in," I said, and Ser Jonothor Darry, my personal guard, entered, followed by my Mother the queen.

She was smiling gently as she always did with me. She would likely speak softly and gently urge me to laugh or smile with her.

"You may leave," she told Ser Jonothor, who simply looked sullen and walked out, closing the door behind him. "I see Ghost is eating well," she said. "What have you been feeding him? Goats?"

"Just the usual beasts he finds on the hunt," I said.

She was taller than me. Well, everyone was. With her long dark hair falling to the sides of her blue dress, one braid hanging out to the side, she was certainly a Northern woman. She inched toward me and sat on the bed.

"What will you do today?" she asked.

"The maester and I will have a lesson, and I got a new book recently," I answered honestly.

"Always the studious one," she said, between proud and playful, "do you have any plans with your friends?"

"Jon and I will visit the kingswood after he finishes training with Aegon," I said.

Mother looked at me lovingly, but I could see the concern in her eyes. She hugged me and I felt Ghost turn his head in between us.

"Lyra," she said, "you mustn't take after your father so much. He would always be a solemn man if it weren't for Elia and I."

I had taken too much from father, it seems.

"Come, you and I are to go riding," Mother told me, and I could hear the joy in her voice. Mother always loved adventure.

"Will we make it back in time to see Jon?" I asked, concerned.

"Your brother will be here for you. He could never deny you your wishes," she said. If only that was true in every way. "Rhaenys would also like to join us; I believe she has a Dornish sand steed I'm simply dying to see."

I loved my sister, truly. She was never unkind to me, despite how hot-headed she could become. Yet when I see her I can't but wish our roles were reversed. She was a beautiful, strong, full-breasted woman, and I, a silly, scrawny girl. I must have looked too sullen because I felt Mother wrap her arms around me again.

"My daughter," she said, "my beautiful, clever daughter, please tell me what upsets you. I'm your mother. I only wish to help you."

I knew that what I truly wanted she would never help me to achieve. She would likely send me, or Jon, away if I were honest.

"I don't think I'm beautiful," I said, and felt Ghost jumped off the bed. 

"Ah," Mother said with surprise at seeing Ghost stand nearly at my height, "You know I was speechless when you brought home that direwolf, and your father terribly upset. But why would you think that, dear? You have your father's looks. I fell for him partly because of how handsome he was."

She touched my shoulder-length hair tenderly. I knew she had become more concerned for me since I cut it in a fit on anger.

"Why do you say I'm so much like Father?" I ask.

"Your father is a brave and honorable man," she answered, "beneath his - well, beneath it he is kind, and loving. I would not have married him otherwise."

Knowing how playful and free-spirited Mother is, it was difficult to see how she could have fallen for my Father.

"And you will grow into a charming young lady. I can already see you beating Daenerys in her beauty," Mother said. I had not seen Aunt Daenerys in years, since she was about my age. "Be more confident, my daughter, you have the dragon and the wolf in you."

She promised we would talk again and left my room. I looked back at the mirror. I could be confident. I could be like Visenya or Bran the Builder or even like mother.

I stood up and called for Ser Jonothor to bring me my handmaiden.

Talla Tarly entered shortly, her brown hair in a thousand braids. She was nearly a foot taller than me.

"Princess Lyra, I'm told the Queen wishes for you to be fitted into riding wear," she said. I knew she was not happy I wouldn't be wearing a dress today.

"Aye, please help with this gown," I said.

She helped me pull off my gown and searched for my other clothes. Seeing my bare flat chest reminded me that I was just a girl, unlike Rhaenys, and Jon could never see me as anything more than that. Looking away, Talla brought me my clothes and fitted me in breeches and a shirt.

Fully dressed, I walked out of the door and let Ser Jonothor take me to Mother, who he said was in Rhaenys' quarters.

They were talking outside of her door, Rhaenys in her Dornish yellow dress and Mother in her grey riding outfit.

"Lyra," Rhaenys said, "come on; we're going to see Jon and Aegon."

I ran to her and Mother and we walked out to the training yard off the side of the Red Keep, six knights of the Kingsguard at our sides. The ground was still wet from last night's rain. I stood behind Rhaenys and Mother while Jon and Aegon spared. 

They had apparently drawn a crowd. I imagined it was quite a thing to see the Targaryen princes sparing, and I believe I saw lords Hightower and Redwyne holding coin purses tightly to their chests.

Jon was fighting with a practice sword; it wouldn't be fair if he used that new Valyrian steel sword of his. Aegon fought well, his long silver hair flying with his every movement. They looked to be evenly matched. Every swing and block from Aegon was followed by a block and strike by Jon. Aegon threw a massive swing to Jon's chest. Before it could strike, Jon swung his leg into Aegon's. Aegon, surprised, slipped on the wet stone ground and fell. He rolled and tried to bring his sword up to Jon but Jon already had the wooden sword at Aegon's neck.

Aegon paused, and dropped his sword. I could not hear it, but I believe he said yield. The small crowd gave hollers and boos, and I saw Lord Hightower give his coin purse to Lord Redwyne. I also saw Rhaenys cheering quietly.

Jon extended his hand and pulled Aegon to his feet. They walked toward us and Jon embraced Mother, who was beaming.

"Using the wet stone," Aegon said behind him. He was smiling, "that was a clever trick. I almost had you."

"Aye, you almost did," Jon said back with a smile.

He then hugged Rhaenys, longer than he did Mother.

"That was an amazing display, Jon," Rhaenys said. She looked over his shoulder, "And you were fine, Aegon," she said playfully.

"Just you wait. Once I know all his tricks this won't happen again," Aegon said, trying to sound confident.

"Whatever you say, dear brother," Rhaenys said. I immediately noticed that she didn't refer to Jon as 'brother.' I wonder if anyone else knew what I did.

Rhaenys eventually released Jon and he looked down to me. He finally noticed me. I think I was blushing.

"Lyra?"  Jon said, slightly kneeling to my height. He held my skinny arms and looked at me with his pretty smile and laughing eyes. "I was told you hadn't left the Keep in half a fortnight; tis a shame I couldn't bust down your door and bring you out here,"

"I might've liked that," I said, and genuinely smiled. He was always the one person who could make me smile or laugh.

"I trust that those books I got you aren't keeping you from playing?" he asked.

"Books are fun," I told him, trying not to sound stupid.

He touched my hair and messed it up, making me laugh and become red-faced.

"You need to ride a horse more often if you're to be as good as Mother when she was your age," he said.

"That is where we are going," I heard Mother say. I looked up and saw her smirking. She knew that Jon always made me happy. She probably brought me here for that purpose.

"To the kingswood," Rhaenys added.

"Expect to get dirty then," Aegon said, "the lands are all mud at this time."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Mother said, "also, Aegon, your mother wishes to see you."

Aegon huffed and walked off.

"I have to go," Jon said to me, slight disappointment in his face, "but I'll try to see you when you get back."

He stood up and hugged Rhaenys. "And you as well," he said, innocently, and he walked into the Keep.

I don't believe others could see what I had. The subtlety in their speeches, the hidden longing in the voices. Knowing what I did put this in an entirely different light.

I wondered if it was a cruel trick by the gods. Jon may love his sister, the gods would say, and be forced to keep it secret. But, Lyra, that sister would not be you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is simply an introduction to Lyra. Most of the story will be about the passion between Jon and Rhaenys.  
> Details of what has changed will be explained in the story, but just a few for now: Arthur Dayne is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Daenerys is on Dragonstone, Lyn Corbray is dead, Barriston Selmy and Arthur Dayne have trained Jon and Aegon, Jon went up to the Wall during a trip to the North, and his actions have made him famous, Baelon Greyjoy has died and the ironborn are led by his lustful and bloodthirsty young son, Theon. Jaime Lannister remains on the Kingsguard.


	3. For Family

 

**Jon**

_It can all be lost._

 

Jon sat in the Throne room of the Red Keep. His father told him to visit it often to remind him of the legacy he needed to uphold, and what it took. He looked up to the thousand blades of the Iron Throne, blackened by dragonfire. Even though the throne was meant for Aegon, his father never let Jon forget his roots.

It was hard for Jon to admit that he descended from the Dragonlords of Valyria. He hadn't the looks, nor the fire in their souls that led them to conquer and burn their enemies, as they did through the centuries. He immediately thought of grandfather, and shuddered. 

He thought he had far more in common with the Starks, as rare as he saw them. Ghost was evident of that. His uncle Eddard was a fair and just man, just as much as his father. It was a disgrace the two were once forced against eachother.

Then there was Robb, his beloved cousin with whom he fought while at the Wall. Sansa, who was all smiles and courtesy. Jon lightly chuckled when he remembered the fawning she constantly did over him. She was clearly enraptured by his princely title. He remembered Bran and Rickon, who always wanted to play with him. His favorite, though, was Arya. All skinned knees and dirty dresses, she was the closest he had come to know of the Starks. She told him to promise he would visit more often, and he did.

His Mother was so much like Arya. She loved him so fiercely, the thought of disappointing her brought pain to his heart. In a way he saw why Father took his Mother after Queen Elia; his Dornish wife was so gentle and sweet, almost weakly so, that he wanted a firebrand. Such was what he got in the Blue Rose of the North. 

For a moment Jon wondered if it was terribly dishonorable for his father to steal her, though. Him a grown man, her a girl of four-and-ten, it was a match that once made the kingdoms bleed.

Jon then thought about Aegon, his kind and loving brother. Though they rarely spent intimate time together, he was honorable and true. More so than King's Landing should have allowed.

Lyra was the light of his life. Truly the opposite of Arya, yet just as sweet and clever, his younger sister was far sadder than a young girl should be. Yet when he spoke to her as sweetly as he could and devoted himself to making her smile, he saw in her the purest joy and happiness he would ever see. Beyond his responsibilities and few other inclinations, Jon always sought to make her happy.

Jon looked back to the Iron Throne. It showed a House built upon steel and death, a constant reminder from Aegon the First that without watchful eyes they would lose everything, including those whom they love.

_Family: that is worth protecting._

Immediately his mind turned to Rhaenys, the love he had known all his life. Her olive skin, slightly lighter than Queen Elia's, dark eyes, and beautiful dark hair, were all so perfect to him. Her voice and her haughty, rebellious personality was so unlike his own, but it made him love her all the more. 

Jon was not sure who came onto whom first, who first started the touches that were slightly inappropriate for siblings, who first snuck into the other's room. Jon believed it was probably himself; as Aegon grew closer to Father and the throne, Jon fell into Rhaenys' arms, his head against her breasts. 

Surely if she had not been so welcoming to his desires, so forgiving and sweet to him, it would not have gone as far as it had. Jon would not forget reaching under her dress while they kissed one sunset. He had not even been aware what he was doing, but he touched her where he never should have. Instead of berating him, she stopped, and stared at him questioningly. She had not been so intimate with anyone as well. Instead of stopping him, she opened her legs, and, a blush across her face, said, "Go ahead, Jon. You can touch it."

They were words a boy of three-and-ten should never be told. From thereon, she had him.

Father would never approve, nor would his Mother or Queen Elia, as kind as the woman was. King Rhaegar Targaryen apparently sought to succeed where Aegon V failed. Some more traditional lords questioned his choices, but King Rhaegar would not be swayed. He sought to end the madness that came with a child born of incest, knowing his own father was a victim. He also intended to strengthen his hold on the kingdom by uniting with other Great Houses. 

But Rhaenys would never listen to him. Never follow through with his demands. And for the love Jon had for her, he wouldn't either. There were times when they wondered why Father never seemed to suspect them; mayhaps he never believed siblings would naturally find such attraction, or mayhaps such acts were only expected from the silver-haired Targaryens.

Whatever their reasons, he and Rhaenys continued to keep it all a secret. They only spoke so honestly and touched so intimately when no one could see them. Only the Kingsguard Ser Lewyn Martell knew of their behavior, and he died years ago. The Dornish would be more accepting of their love, Rhaenys reminded him, as they pondered to where they could run away.

"Jon," he heard from his side.

Jon turned his head and saw his sister Lyra, guided by four men of the Kingsguard she looked so small, dwarfed by the tall men guarding her. She had that same shy pout on her lips. It both broke his heart and made him want to hug her.

"Lyra, come here," Jon said with new enthusiasm, his arms out wide. That would bring a smile to her face.

Lyra smiled and ran to him. She jumped into his arms and he picked her up her scrawny self and he heard her laugh. It was his duty as her brother. He pulled back and put her down, though she tried to keep her arms on him. 

"How was your ride with Mother?" he asked her, staring into her deep violet eyes.

"It was pleasant," Lyra said, "Mother tried to race Ser Jonothor and he fell from his horse."

Jon looked up and saw among the Kingsguard the very same man. Ser Jonothor huffed and turned his eyes. It was a wonder why Father would make a man as stern as Jonothor Darry guard to Lyra.

"And how was Rhaenys?" Jon asked.

"Oh," Lyra said, pausing, "she-she was fine. She showed us her sandsteed."

"I'm glad, little sister-" Jon was cut off.

"Jon, um, I went to see Father," Lyra got out, sounding nervous. Jon gave her a curious look. "He... wishes to see you," she said.

Jon's face turned serious. His Father, the King, was a serious and man, rarely joyful and often solemn. He wouldn't ask to see Jon unless it was to give him a task.

"Aye," Jon finally said, "do you know what about?" 

"I can't be sure," Lyra said, "He only wished to ask my condition, I believe. Mother likely asked him to."

That piqued his attention. "Lyra," Jon said and somewhat knelt closer to her, "You know I wish to ask if you're well." Jon remembered when her incident, how recent it was, how she cut her once-long hair.

"I know," Lyra said, staring at him with big, purple eyes, "But I am fine. You must go. Father's waiting, and I have to feed Ghost."

"I'll see you later," Jon said to her, and messed her hair. Lyra chuckled and her laugh brought back his smile.

Jon and Lyra departed. Jon followed the path of the Red Keep until he reached his father's solar, the door shut. Inside he heard speaking, and two guards stood at the door.

Hoping to catch his father at what was likely the end of a meeting, Jon walked toward a window and stared out to the city. Darkness was beginning to set. It was a large city, and Jon knew it was difficult for the people below, even after King Rhaegar's many reforms. 

Jon heard the door open and turned to see Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne, his hair greying and armor white.

"Prince Jon," Ser Arthur said, "His Grace wishes to speak with you. Come in." 

"Right away," Jon said immediately. He never wished to test the patience of his father, and certainly not the man who taught him how to use the sword. 

Jon entered through the door. Inside, he saw his Father standing, dressed in black, two dragons on his chest, an unadorned Valyrian steel crown on his head, and Hand of the King, Jon Connington, seated opposite the King, his hair grey and his beard full and red.

"- I want the Lannisters as far from the throne as possible," his father said sternly to Lord Connington.

"What about the Tarly boy?" Lord Connington asked the King.

"I'll not entertain the thought," said King Rhaegar, his eyes violet eyes almost heated. "Neither will it be a Frey. I'll not have the songs guess which of the thousand cadet branches she joined."

"Your Grace," Ser Arthur pretended to cough. 

Both King Rhaegar and Jon Connington turned to Jon and Ser Arthur. 

"Ah, Jon, please, sit down," Lord Connington said.

"I will, Lord Hand," Jon said respectfully.

Jon sat down and looked between the three older men who were his mentors. Of them, Jon would say that Lord Connington was the most jovial, Ser Arthur the most obsequious, and his Father, the least affable. Ever the man committed to duty, he rarely spoke to Jon without reminding him of his responsibilities. Jon wondered if the man just couldn't speak his feelings. He remembered that his Mother said his father spoke most truly in his music, but Jon couldn't remembered the last time he played in the halls.

"Jon," his Father said, sitting down into his King's chair, slightly higher than the rest, "I believe you have heard that Daenerys has arrived at Dragonstone."

Jon did indeed hear such a thing; it was odd to him. He had not had news about his loving young aunt since he was a child, and to know his uncle died made the news hardly easier to take in.

"Aye, Your Grace, I have," Jon answered.

"She carries with her three dragon eggs," said King Rhaegar, "I mean to see them for myself."

"Your Grace?" Jon piqued, "you wish to leave King's Landing?" It was no question, King Rhaegar's obsession with dragon-related prophecies. It seemed to many that the tragedy of Summerhall did not prevent him from seeking out such things, but only prompted him to accomplish where others failed.

"His Grace will leave Prince Aegon to rule in his stead, with me as his advisor," said Lord Connington, who appeared hardly pleased with his king's decision.

"Seems a fine plan," Jon said confusedly. This couldn't have been why his father called him here.

"That is not all," said King Rhaegar, taking a deep breath, "You're to head to the Vale."

Jon's breath almost stopped. He knew exactly what this was about.

"It is time you met your betrothed, Jon," said Lord Connington.

It had been many moons since his father finally set on a bethrothal for him. It was a subject he and the rest of his siblings avoided. No one wanted to get married for a political alliance, especially not with how uncertain the kingdoms were since the Rebellions. 

It was what would tear him apart from Rhaenys. It was why she would hold his naked body so tightly at night, when she was reminded of it in the day. It was what fueled their saddest, and most passionate embraces. 

"I-I can't say that I will know what to do," Jon muttered.

"You will meet her and hope she is to your liking," said Lord Connington, "It was more than a difficulty to arrange this."

Jon knew that was true. After his father passed laws which protected more of the smallfolk, while the kingdoms healed from rebellion, the bonds between families needed to be strengthened. 

"And that is what we were discussing; we're to find a match for Lyra," said King Rhaegar.

"She's but a girl," Jon said reactively.

"I know," his father said, "but she is also a Targaryen."

A Targaryen. Prince, Princess, all the titles that only acted as chains.

"When am I to leave?" Jon finally asked.

"The day after the morrow," his father said solemnly.

"But, I-" Jon managed to say.

"Jon, this is a trying time for our family. Do your duty," King Rhaegar said, his face sullen and stern.

Jon huffed. "Yes, Father, I will," Jon said sadly. It was ever a wonder to Jon when to use 'Father' or 'Your Grace.'

"You will not be the only one," his father said, "Rhaenys will leave to see her bethrothed, and Margaery Tyrell will travel here to see Aegon."

That was hardly better. "Might I ask, why so quickly, Your Grace?" Jon asked. 

"As I've said, we are coming to a dangerous position," King Rhaegar said, "Everything must be secured."

Jon didn't look up. It was all so much to take him. 

"Ser Arthur," he heard Lord Connington say, "could you take the prince to his quarters?"

"Aye, I will," he responded.

Jon felt Ser Arthur Dayne's hand touch his shoulder. He needed to get up. He immediately got up and left the room, trying to keep calm. 

He was likely to be married soon to a woman he never knew, and be separated from Rhaenys even sooner.

"I can take it from here," Jon said to Ser Arthur when he got to his door. 

Ser Arthur nodded and left. 

Jon entered his room, thinking about what he would do. He looked to his right and saw Longclaw on its stand. Even with all of his training, Jon still couldn't fight his father's will.

He needed to tell Rhaenys. Immediately he left his room and departed to hers. He was careful to ensure that no one saw him. It was dark now, and that would serve his goal. He snuck between  a dark passage in the Keep, one he found long ago, until he finally reached Rhaenys' door.

He opened it, and inside he found her, still in her yellow dress. Jon closed the door. Rhaenys was sitting on her bed. She looked up at him, her beautiful face was wet with tears. 

"Jon!" she called out, far louder than she should have.

She got up from the bed and raced to him.

"My love," she said before she kissed him deeply. Jon tried to speak but every time he did, she captured his lips with her own. He felt the salt of her tears on his mouth.

"I know what Father plans; my mother told me," she said between her hot kisses.

Jon grabbed her and pushed her slightly away, to look at her sad and tear-stained face. She was so beautiful, so perfect. She was his.

"Jon," Rhaenys said, "we cannot let this happen. Anything. I'd do anything to stay with you. Do you love me?"

"I love you more fiercely than I could ever know. I'd do anything as well," Jon said painfully.

"Then make love to me," Rhaenys said, and she jumped into his arms, "take me as a lover should. I need you so much."

Jon kissed her and pushed her against the wall. This was so much louder than they ever had been before. They both knew they risked so much being found out. But now, this is what mattered.

Rhaenys grabbed his shirt and pulled it off, while Jon removed her dress. He pulled it down from her breasts down to her feet, taking only a moment to pull it entirely off.

They were both frantic for eachother, moaning loudly in between kisses and Rhaenys' tears. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed down his breeches and smallclothes with her feet. Once they were both naked, Jon pinned her against the wall, and entered her quickly.

Rhaenys gasped and he kissed her to stifle her sounds. He fucked her harder against the wall, as she wrapped her legs around him tightly.

Nearing release, Jon stopped kissing her and they laid their heads against eachother. Jon kept fucking her as they stared deeply into eachother's eyes, saying more in that than they ever could otherwise.

Rhaenys looked like she was about to scream, so he captured her lips with his own and they both felt reached their peaks. He continued thrusting into her all throughout their daze.

Still breathing heavily, Rhaenys looked at Jon sadly. He picked her up, heigher than before, holding her so tenderly, and gently placed her on the bed. They stared into eachother's eyes for what felt like an eternity.

Soon they were making love again, enjoying every instance of eachother's touch. It was their way of rebelling, of enjoying what should have been theirs and saying what they couldn't.

Afterwards, Jon looked down at Rhaenys, who was making circles on his arms.

"We could run away, Jon," she said, "right now. We could live in the Free Cities."

Jon loved her, but she knew he could never abandon his duty to his family, even if it meant his dreams.

"We always could," he said, enjoying her soft touches, "But who will keep Lyra happy? How will Aegon remember his place without his sister?" he asked jokingly.

"He will manage," she said, enjoying the bit of levity. "So I suppose you'll see the Royce girl."

"Ysilla?" Jon said, "Aye, I head for the Gates of the Moon."

"Such a stupid name," Rhaenys said.

"And I suppose you'll finally see my cousin," Jon said, "You know, he is not the worst choice."

"It still irks me why Father ever thought a Dornish girl should be wed to Robb Stark," Rhaenys lamented.

Jon chuckled and began to move off of her.

"Don't move," Rhaenys ordered, holding him. "You're still inside me. I like it, and I don't want you to leave tonight." 

It was an tempting thought, but they still couldn't risk being caught.

"Rhae," Jon said.

"No, tonight I want you," she said, vemon on her lips, "Don't you dare fucking move unless you're going to fuck me again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh that wasn't easy. Oberyn coming soon.  
> Gates of the Moon. Hmm, I wonder what that means.  
> Comment please! I read them all the time


	4. Morning thoughts

 

**Rhaenys**

There are three women I know that Jon loves. Me, Lyra, and his mother. I know he at the very least likes my mother and he's told me about his affection for his cousins. But only we three can compel him to do anything. 

What then, would happen if two of us desired one thing from him, and only one desire something different?

"Fuck, uhh," Jon groaned. He was still on top of me, fucking me and sending me over the edge.

I wasn't sure how many times we'd gone at it but I knew now he did it to avoid my questions.

I tried to focus on his cock. He large, manly cock and his hands which squeezed my nipples. It was a feeling I grew to love so quickly. 

When he started quickening his pace I knew he was close. I threw my head back and wrapped my legs around his torso. I moaned and he fucked me harder. Soon I felt his cock twitching inside me and I came. My world was blank and I only knew pleasure. I came down from my high and felt Jon releasing his seed inside me, for what felt like the thousandth time of the night.

Mayhaps if I could explain how this act felt, I could show why this act wasn't unnatural, but truly amazing; it was our love. Nothing in this world could feel more right.

I would not take moon tea tonight, even at Jon's insistence. If he is so determined in his way, then I would be too. A bastard would surely force Father to change his mind.

Jon laid his head at my side and breathed raggedly. Such was the consequence of trying to shut me up with sex.

We took a brief nap like that until the sunrise made us wake. Jon was up before me.

"Rhaenys," he said, "you know I have to go."

"No," I told him, "you're mine and we're not going to be afraid anymore."

"Rhae," he said more desperately, "you know it would be best to be defiant in some other way."

I looked at him. He looked so pretty on top of me. So appropriate. "If you move, I'll scream," I said.

"Haha," Jon laughed, "I'm sure you already did. Probably doesn't matter now. Everyone's likely heard you."

"Well good," I said, "and don't make fun of me." I turned my head and pouted.

Immediately Jon kissed my cheek and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Where do you think we would live?" Jon asked. "The kingdoms are always on the brink of war. Surely our departure would hurt our mothers, and who knows what would happen to the kingdoms."

"Who cares about the bloody kingdoms?" I asked, "what could possibly happen to us?"

Jon looked at me seriously. "War... is not a thing to make light of," he said hesitantly. "I only wish to safeguard our family. You."

For a moment I stared into his dark grey eyes. He was far more mature than his age would let on. Yet in those eyes I saw the deaths of comrades he had known beyond the Wall. It would always be true that he saw what others didn't. Even me.

"What do you think we should do then?" I asked.

"I will ride to the Gates and call off the bethrothal. Then I will ride to Winterfell and do the same," he affirmed. "Father is too set in his ways to ever listen, but mayhaps the houses would listen to me if I spoke honorably and truly."

"That's fucking stupid," I said.

"Thank you, but if I were there I could secure ties to crown," he said.

"Hmm, you'd likely have to give Lyra's hand as an alternative. I know many lords wish to see their son take a Valyrian princess," I said icily.

"I wouldn't," he told me, looking straight in my eyes. "Ever. But our enemies grow more confident every day. Father hoped to strengthen his alliances in spite of his enemies. Two children bethrothed to rebels and two to loyalists. With that, he would prevent rebellion at all costs."

"What's your point?" I asked. "The house of Arryn is no more and you're the Starks golden boy."

"I wouldn't overestimate our position," Jon said sadly, "give me a chance, Rhae."

I breathed deeply. He was stubborn, mayhaps even more than father. 

"You couldn't just marry me now, could you?" I asked finally.

"Rhae, you and I both know what would happen if we were so hasty," Jon lamented.

 

I eventually decided to let him go. He snuck out before full daybreak. Neither of us were sure if anyone heard us in the night.

I stretched on my bed and enjoyed the smell he had left in his place. I felt the loving soreness between my legs and sighed happily.

I eventually got Jon to promise that we would marry as soon as we ended the possibility of war. It couldn't come soon enough. 

I left my bed and took a bath, regretfully washing off all the evidence of Jon's night with me. 

I broke my fast and was soon joined by my Mother the Queen, followed by the Blue Rose of the North, Queen Lyanna herself. 

Having sat down together, I wondered if they both had just come from pleasing Father. The man would hardly have reason to call Jon and I wanton, considering he had a bed large enough for three.

I looked over to my Mother, her beautiful face and dainty features on display between a red dress and jewelry. "Hello, Mother," I said and turned to Queen Lyanna, "Queen Lyanna."

"It's just Lyanna, Rhae," she laughed. She knew I only used her proper title to annoy her.

"How are you, daughter? Well, I hope?" My mother asked. 

I looked into my mother's dark eyes, her expression happy. But I knew beneath it she was worried that I didn't want to be married. She kept me from marriage for so long I could only thank her.

"I'm well," I said, "but... still finding difficulty with the thought of going to the North of all places."

"You'll come to love it," Lyanna said, still chewing her peach. Always the messy eater. "It's like Dorne in a way; harsh land, but beautiful."

"Lya," my Mother laughed, "table manners," indicating Lyanna's still open mouth. Queen Lyanna blushed and closed her mouth. "My daughter, I know the prospect of marriage is daunting, but I assure you, you couldn't have a better match. The Stark boy is honorable and I know he'll choke up once he sees what a beauty you are."

"Thank you, Mother," I said honestly.

"And don't worry," she mentioned, "you'll still see Jon." She looked at me with a sad smile.

I wasn't sure what that expression meant but I my heart started beating fast at the thought of what she might know.

Before I could speak, Lyanna did. "Aegon, join us!" she said.

I turned and saw my annoying little brother. He sat by me, his hair long and his smile unmoving.

"Mother," he nodded to Lyanna, "Mother," he said to his own. "Beautiful morn we have today." He always thought he was funny, when it was painfully obvious he wasn't.

"Hello, Aegon," I said, false annoyance in my expression, always for my lovable brother. "What's got you so jovial? Finally found a girl to like you for your personality?"

"Hey-" he said.

"I'd stay away from other ladies, Egg," Queen Lyanna said, "You already have to make one queen, and gods know you Targaryens can barely handle two at the same time!" she laughed.

"Lya!" My mother cried, half surprised and half laughing. 

Aegon and I simply became red faced and stared at eachother. Queen Lyanna was surely outspoken to say the least.

 

**Mya**

A mountain trek made a thousand times. I walked to the Gates of the Moon and entered the halls. I brought my mules in from the cold and removed my coat.

Surely many ask me why I dress so masculine, always opting for shirt and breeches, that I could look pretty if I tried. But I couldn't care less. I preferred to move over looking pretty.

I wondered what Lord Royce would soon say to me. The Black Bastard of the Dragon is on his way. Would he keep me here, daughter of Rhaegar's greatest enemy? Or simply ask me to behave? Knowing what Rhaegar did to my father, I surely wouldn't behave around his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not too much trouble, please read and comment on my story "gifts for salt wives." It's short and I need feedback.
> 
> Also, I've been interested in gifting a work to someone. Any takers? Any prompts?


	5. In walks the Viper

 

 

 

 

 

**Lyra**

"J-Jon is leaving?" I stuttered.

I was standing in Mother's room, holding Ghost by his leash. I could feel my hands shaking. My big brother would leave me here in the Keep while we went to see his bethrothed. He wouldn't be able to protect me from all of Father's plans, he wouldn't take with out into the Kingswood, he wouldn't see me anymore.

My mother stood above me, concern in her eyes and love in her voice. "Aye, Jon has to go. Your Father commands it," she said.

I stared up at her questioningly. 

"So do I," she explained. She knelt down next to me and held me shoulders, causing me release my grip on the leash. Ghost quickly ran out of the door. Surely he would cause trouble.

"Jon's been without a wife for too long," she said, "All of you have. I'm afraid Elia and I never wanted to see you all grow up, but the time has come."

I looked into my mother's deep grey eyes and she smile painfully. "My beautiful, clever daughter," she spoke, "Do not be so upset; Jon will soon return. Even after he is married, he will always come back to you."

I wished so much that her words had a different meaning. From the time I was eight I had for Jon what I could only call love. My protective brother who always took the time to play with me, who held me in my sleep when I ran to his room during a storm, who saw me as more than a princess, more than a ward of this stupid Keep. I wanted him to be with me, but at that moment I hadn't even realized there was one person probably taking it worse than me.

 _Rhaenys_.

Big half-sister, far more confident and womanish than I, still must have had a heavy heart. Was I being selfish, thinking about my childish love for Jon and not hers? Her true love? I pouted involuntary and my mother held my cheek. "Fear not, Lyra," she said, "All will be fine, and you will find many new friends to play with."

I put on my best fake smile, though I'm sure she saw through it. 'The Daynes and the Martells are soon to arrive; you shall find much to keep you busy," she said.

I left her room as silently as possible, unaware of the tears on my face until they reached my cheeks.

 

**Elia**

It was in the middle of the night that Rhaegar desired our "gifts." My husband was a calculating man, but never cold. I could excuse his occasional need to fuck his wives in his free time. 

I laid on our large royal bed, staring at the scene next to me. Rhaegar and Lyanna were both naked, and Rhaegar was behind her, fucking her and making her moan. It had been something to adjust to, seeing my husband fuck another woman in my bed, but I was a Dornishwoman; I was far more comfortable with it than other women.

When Rhaegar first told me he needed another child, a third head of the dragon, my heart ached that I could not give him that child. When he came back from Harrenhall speaking of a beautiful northern shield-maiden, I knew he had found the one. Mayhaps I should have been upset; but my nature prevented me from feeling so. I only felt joy that my husband would have his next child, and I might have a sister to keep me company in the Keep. Aerys certainly made the place a living hell. I shook at the thought.

Rhaegar grabbed Lyanna's hair and forced her head into the bed, giving her his last few thrusts. I knew that he liked a woman that could fight him, but I wonder if he enjoyed it just so he could conquer her anyway. Lya screamed and Rhaegar groaned, depositing his seed in the young woman. 

I smiled remembering how I suggested she sleep in our bed. The Northerners surely had their reservations, even when they fucked outside of marriage. 

When I first saw Lyanna enter the Keep, I was struck by her beauty. Her dark hair contrasting with the lightness of her skin, her shy yet playful countenance made her infinitely more desirable than Cersei Lannister. She was still a girl then, hardly four-and-ten; I wondered if she still had fantasies of a handsome prince taking her away and having a happy ending. When war came and Rhaegar left her with me, surely she knew it could never be that simple.

Still, she was loving and fun girl; she took to her stead more than the guards allowed and wished to fight at every instance; it was not hard to like her. When I finally held her child in my arms, little Jon, I looked into her tired eyes and knew we were finally sisters.

"Elia, is she?" Rhaegar asked, still kneeling behind the northern queen.

I looked at her and knew for sure.

"She's fallen asleep," I told him. 

Rhaegar laughed his subtle laugh and laid between us. He reached his arms around the both of us. It was good to have him like this. So often was he worried about the kingdoms or the city that he didn't get to show his true emotion. He wasn't as deep as a poet, and did not play a song except on rare occasion, but for him let his guard down was always good for me.

"Do you think Rhaenys will fare well in the North?" I asked. 

"She's a strong woman; she shall learn," he said.

"And what of your son?" I asked.

"Aegon is staying here; the Tyrell girl will be all poise and charm," he affirmed.

"No; Jon," I corrected.

"The Royces will treat him with respect and I believe the girl is quite pretty," he said. The Royces must have had a great deal of respect after being named lords of the Vale.

"You seem oddly calm with your 'dragons' leaving your grasp," I told him, putting my hand on his chest. He was obsessed with that bloody prophecy.

"The children know their duties," he affirmed, "and you know everything must be set. Delicately."

"What if the children are wayward, or find loves of their own?" I asked.

Rhaegar looked at me questioningly. "Elia, I would not accept it," he said.

Immediately I thought about my daughter. My rebellious, secretive daughter. Her stubborn ways against her father's wishes would be a battle for the ages. 

 

"Oberyn!" I called out. 

My brother had just arrived from Pentos after a brief holiday in Essos. His paramour, Ellaria Sand stood by his side, dressed in her red Dornish dress which shined in the sunlight. I was in the gardens when we met, a few guards at my side.

Quickly my brother ran to me and held me dearly. I noticed that his hair was longer.

"Dear sister, I hope King's Landing has been treating you well. And King Rhaegar equally so," he said. He was always so protective of me.

"Aye, it has. Come, Oberyn, your niece and nephew wish to see you," I said.

 

**Jon**

"Uncle," Rhaenys said, "It's been too long." She was finally joyful again, seeing her uncle.

We were in the Queen Elia's solar, and I waited at the edge of the door while the Red Viper spoke. Rhaenys knew of my feelings toward her less-than-honorable uncle, the man with the gall to fight with a poisoned blade.

Rhaenys hugged Oberyn and Aegon stayed by my side.

"What say you, brother?" he whisper with humorous eyes, "Think you can take on the viper?"

"I reckon not, or at least I shouldn't," I whispered back.

Immediately I recognized Oberyn Martell in front of me, with that ever present grin. It reminded me of Aegon.

"The Prince of Dragonstone," he called me, "I remember seeing when you were but a child." 

I stuck his hand out, and, seeing the look Rhaenys gave me, I shook it. I knew she would give me hell if I did not.

"Well met, my lord," I said.

He shook his head and turned to Aegon. 

"Egg, if you could tell me where Ellaria is, I'd give you a thousand words of thanks," he said.

Aegon told him to follow him and they both left the room, leaving Rhaenys and I. Rhaenys quickly ran up to me and kissed me, and I fell into her embrace. Afterwards, I quickly looked out the door to make sure no one saw us, and shut it. 

Rhaenys walked to Elia's chair and sat down. She looked so perfect.

"I thought we'd never be alone again," she said.

I smiled. "Must I always be the responsible one? Someone easily might have seen us," I said.

"And then what? They'd tell father?" Rhaenys spat. "You know I've been imagining what his face will look like once he finds out. I bet it'll be unforgettable."

She was clearly quite irritable that I'd be leaving. Leaving to end our bethrothals, yes, but leaving just the same.

"Rhae, I need to do something for me," I said firmly.

Rhaenys perked up and looked curious. "What?" she asked.

"I heard Father and Connington planning a bethrothal for Lyra," I said. 

Rhaenys looked at me curiously. I knew she loved our little sister as much as I, but perhaps not so intimately, so personally.

"She's not ready for it, she's yet to accept life as a princess. I'd say she's worse than you or I in this matter," I said. "She can't know her life is be planned out for her, not now."

"What do you want me to for her, Jon?" Rhaenys asked.

"Do not let them choose her bethrothed," I said, "You can't lie to her. She's too clever. Better to prevent it from happening until I return."

"Why until then?" she asked suspiciously.

"I don't want her to do anything dramatic, and she won't. When I'm here." I said.

Rhaenys eyed me curiously. She once questioned why I was so close to the young girl, why I treated her more lovingly than Aegon, and almost more lovingly than her. I simply told her that Lyra needed it. Rhaenys treated her kindly as a little sister. But I knew my sister. Better than she might know.

"Aye, I will," she said.

 

We made love that night, our last night together for a long time. The moonlight reflected off Rhaenys' skin, and I had my lips against her the whole time, tasting, feeling, enjoying every moan she made. Everything that I made her feel.

 

By morning I was packed and ready to depart, with Father by my side. We were to be seen of by Aegon, Rhaenys and Lyra, as the ship prepared to depart.

Aegon was speaking with His Grace while I spoke to Lyra.

I knelt down and held Lyra's cheeks.

"I'll return soon," I told her. I could tell she was holding back tears. "Ghost will keep you company. Promise me you'll behave and listen to Mother and Queen Elia."

"I promise," she said in her high voice.

"But not Aegon; he'll have no idea what he's doing," I joked.

Lyra laughed and I left her place, standing up next to Father. I could tell we were near the same height. I walked over to Rhaenys and gave her a chaste hug.

"Come back soon," she whispered in my ear.

I still held her in my embrace and looked up to see Oberyn Martell.

"I'm sure the Prince didn't mean to forget his good-uncle," he said.

I left Rhaenys' grasp. "What?" I asked.

"My sister asked to come with you," he said, "To protect you, and make sure you do your duty."

I looked down at Rhaenys who had a look of surprise, which I'm sure I shared.

Suddenly I felt Oberyn's hand touch my shoulder. "You know I've always wanted to go to the Bloody Gates," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I'll fix this chapter later. I'll try to make the following chapters better. I just wanted to get something finished.  
> Next up: Jon and Mya meet, Lyra and Rhaenys have a heart to heart, and we see our Mother of Dragons. Oh and where are the Baratheons you might ask? Well.... ;)


	6. New chapter??

I tried, but I never found the heart to go back to this. I'm giving this story up for adoption, or giving it to Daemon. If you have any thoughts, email me at ebercod8@protonmail.com 

You've been a longer fanbase, but I think I should move on to stories I feel more confident in.  
Much Love - Avery

_Parting is such sweet sorrow._


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